


Science and Progress

by Cortesia



Series: Hartwin Week 2015 [1]
Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mutants, Canon-Typical Violence, Crack, Eventual Happy Ending, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Hartwin Week 2015, M/M, Mutant Powers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2015-08-20
Packaged: 2018-04-15 04:49:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4593420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cortesia/pseuds/Cortesia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hartwin Week 2015 story. Each chapter is a one-shot in the same world/story, just a snapshot of the overall picture. Each chapter will cover each day's prompt (though as it's already an AU, I'm kind of hitting day 7 from the get-go).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Time

Kingsman agents were the best. They worked hard, played hard, drank, loved, fucked and died hard. The average time in the suit an agent would get was entirely dependent upon his or her skills, but the average was about 12 years. Some lucky few like Arthur were given the opportunity to retire from field service. Others, like Lancelot, died before they finished. They were also completely human. Kingsman had no official policy against those with extra… gifts, but each knight was encouraged to dissociate from the rabble that made up mutant society.

_“Not our kind, Galahad. They’re not our kind.”_

But, as these usually go, there was a first time for everything.

After the untimely death of Lancelot, the Kingsmen convened. They were ordered to procure candidates for his position, and each left, a suitable idea forming in each of their minds. Harry Hart, Galahad to his fellow agents, had a different idea. He followed Merlin back to the man’s office and perched on the desk across from him.

“I’m thinking about openly recruiting a mutant,” Harry opened with no preamble.

Merlin didn’t react. “If you’re expecting me to be shocked, I’m not. Half of my branch is mutant, though well-hidden. Arthur doesnae know, but that’s because he’s a blind old bastard who thinks women are meant to be having babies and curling their hair, let alone mutants being people.

“Good. Just wanted to let you know since you’re the one designing these tests.”

“Ta for that, but I’d rather see how the candidate reacts to baseline tests before I start adding in extraordinary things to test his or her mettle.”

“Well then I’ll leave you to it.” Harry left, heading home to peruse the various records and reports he’d need to discover a truly talented mutant to propose.

***

‘ _It’s bloody impossible,_ ’ thought Harry, ‘ _to find a single mutant who can fit the kinds of roles a Kingsman needs._ ’

The years had not been kind to mutants, but the UK was rather more progressive than other nations about equal rights and access to all levels of employment, including the military and law enforcement. But finding a single candidate who had the drive, the discipline, and the temperament for this sort of work was proving difficult. He had the list narrowed to four candidates, but each was lacking somewhere the others weren’t. The fire-slinger was skilled and full of drive, but lacked the kind of discipline and leadership skills that a Kingsman needed. The young girl who could breathe underwater was incredibly gifted, but she wasn’t suited for the kind of moral dubiousness that might be asked of her. A mid-twenties telepath might fit, but Harry knew telepaths tended to be either remarkably passive and anti-force, or completely convinced of their “right” to delve through the minds of others, damn the consequences. He had no idea which this particular young man was. Lastly, there was a good choice, a woman with the extraordinary ability to create illusions all around her, but Harry was concerned about her survival skills. She wasn’t particularly strong; she had a slight and frail frame, and a history of childhood illness. But she was the best of the lot, and thus Harry began drafting a letter to the young woman.

Midway through, he received a call on his cellphone that had him running out the door.

_Lee Unwin’s son had called._

Lee Unwin had been the only mutant known to have ever attempted to join Kingsman. He’d had the relatively minor ability to raise or lower the temperature of the air around him within about 5 inches. Enough that he could freeze an enemy’s hands during combat, or superheat and burn something he held. Only Harry and Merlin were aware of the man’s ability, having caught him on the cameras one evening quite by chance raising the temperature of the water in the swimming pool at HQ from frigid to something more akin to a hot tub.

Then he’d gone and gotten himself killed, unable to use his power to stop a grenade’s explosion and shrapnel. Harry had delivered the news in person to the man’s wife and son, leaving behind medal and a promise of help, should they ever need it. Harry felt a debt to the young man who had traded his life for Harry’s, and though he’d been unable to step in over the years due to the rather restrictive rules Kingsman had about contacting former recruits and their families, he knew this was his chance to try and right some of that wrong.

And now the lad was cashing in.

As Harry raced to the police station the boy was in, he relived the memory of Lee’s last mission and his own failure to stop the death of one of Kingsman’s most promising recruit. Idly, he wondered if the son was as talented, so he asked Merlin via the glasses to forward the boy’s public records, and any private or sealed records they could get their hands on. The results were a contradiction, but it was clear that losing his father had made the boy harden himself in ways that only the loss of a parent and the dismal life that follows could.

_“Maybe he’d do well with us…”_

***

The boy had taken to training like a fish took to water. With Harry now out of a coma, it was as if whatever skills Eggsy had been hiding were finally blossoming with the need to impress his mentor. Harry maintained it was simply a misplaced sense of father-son bonding that Eggsy had, though Merlin didn’t believe him. The tech genius was convinced that the young man was in love with Harry.

“His sunny smiles are only yours, Galahad. The rest of us get smirks or something far more diminished.”

“I doubt that Merlin. He’s far too young, as it is.” Harry didn’t believe anything he was saying, but far be it from him to announce to all and sundry that he wanted to bend the boy over a desk and show him how to take it like a gentleman. For all Harry’s posturing about classism and tradition, some things were simply not done. Buggering your much younger sexual muse in front of a hundred spy cameras was one of them. So, Harry resolved to follow through once the boy won his spot, because then no one could claim an unfair advantage.

Merlin had come to him earlier in the day, informing him of that evening’s parachute test, but judging by the look on his face, that wasn’t all Merlin wanted to discuss. The man shushed Harry for a moment and then placed a small device on the desktop between them. Harry recognized it as the same sort of sonic emitter that deactivated surveillance equipment that each agent was given as part of a standard mission kit.

“What’s so important you need the silence, Aodhán?”

“Your lad. They each got their medical evaluations done prior to the jump, as you know. Checking for heart defects and the like before we shove them out of a plane and kill one accidentally. We’ve recently begun doing genetic sequencing at this point, so that we aren’t surprised with any issues cropping up after we get a new agent. Anyway, your lad, he’s got the mutant X gene. None of the others do, but yours is a mutant. I know you’d wanted to find one but you made no mention of it after the fact, so I assumed you’d changed your mind. Do you know what he can do?”

Harry looked as astounded as Merlin sounded.

“Not at all. This is the first I’ve heard of it. And are we doing this genetic sequencing on everyone? I didn’t think that sort of thing went over well with the non-field agents and support staffs.”

“Aye, eventually. We’ve only been doing the recruits for now; Arthur doesnae see the point.” Merlin shrugged, both men well aware of their king’s displeasure at the notion of modern technology overtaking the espionage business.

“He really is a fucking relic, isn’t he?” Harry mused, and Merlin snorted in agreement.

“Anyway, I wanted to let you know. See if you can find out what it is. I’ve been back over the recordings day and night, but I cannae find anything to suggest a specific ability or power. Might be like his da, but I get the feeling your lad’s a bit more explosive than Lee was.”

“I’ll see what I can do. Any guesses or bets?”

“Hmm, no. I’d wager it’s something subtle, but beyond that I cannae guess. I’m a quartermaster, not a bloody visionary.”

Harry laughed Merlin from the room.

***

“Second lesson, how to make a proper martini.”

“Yes Harry!”

Harry went about showing the young man how to mix several different cocktails, a proper martini included. When Eggsy, rather tipsy at this point, asked about the old “shaken, not stirred” gimmick from James Bond movies, Harry simply shot him a dirty look and said,

“No, Eggsy. Just no.”

Between the two of them, they managed to polish off a good chunk of Harry’d alcohol collection in the office, though Harry seemed rather better off than Eggsy. Once Harry deemed the boy sufficiently lubricated, he leaned forward to stare intently at Eggsy.

“Your medical profile returned something rather interesting about your genetics, Eggsy. Do you know what that means?”

“Whuzza?”

“Quite. It says you’re a mutant. Did you know that?”

“No fuckin’ way. M’not a mutant. No way no how.” Eggsy shook his head violently, and seemed to get dizzy from the motion. However, he was clearly lying. Harry took note of the fearful glint in his eyes, the tightness of his body, likely a defensive maneuver.

“I’m afraid so, lad. The mutant X gene is rather unmistakeable on a DNA sequence. Merlin triple checked.”

“You gonna let me finish trainin’? Gonna let me be a Kinger- a Kingsman? A Kingly man!”

Harry sighed; he’d misjudged the amount of alcohol the young man could handle before becoming too intoxicated to be of any use.

“Yes, we’ll let you finish and become a Kingsman. There isn’t a rule against it at all. But we would like to know what it is you can do, in case it comes in handy.”

“Nope. SHHHHHHHHHH HARRY. S’A SECRET. NOBODY KNOWS.”

Clearly Eggsy was incapable of remaining quiet, despite his overblown shushing motion and dramatic and slurred stage whisper.

“Well, I suppose so. But if you ever do feel like telling me, I’ll listen.”

“Thanks, bruv. You’re the best mate a guy could lo…” Eggsy trailed off, falling asleep on the sofa in Harry’s parlor. The older man sighed and got up to retrieve a blanket. He tucked it around the younger man, slipped the hat off of his head, and left to go to bed. He really needed to figure out where the line was for others when drinking.

The next day dawned clear, and Harry woke up to make breakfast for himself and Eggsy. The lad was still sleeping, and despite Harry’s chipper attitude, he knew the young man wouldn’t be in any state to do much until his hangover cleared out. Hence the full English Harry was preparing. As Harry put the finishing touches on the plates he’d prepared, he heard Eggsy rise and stumble to the restroom. After roughly ten minutes, Eggsy returned downstairs, looking much better with dampened hair that smelled of Harry’s shampoo, and breath that smelled like Harry’s mouthwash. He looked blearily at the plate and collapsed into the Queen Anne chair to Harry’s right.

“Aspirin just there,” said Harry, motioning to the small tablets by Eggsy’s juice. Eggsy swallowed them dry, and took a long draught of the juice afterwards to rehydrate somewhat. He tucked in and ate what was possibly the best breakfast he’d ever eaten in his life.

“Did you get me drunk, Harry Hart?”

“That I did, my boy.”

“Did you get me drunk to ask me about the… thing?”

“Thing?”

“You know, the thing I can do.”

“Ah. Well yes, actually. Might as well be honest. Merlin noticed the mutant X gene in your health profile from before the parachute test. He hadn’t noticed any unusual ability on your part, so he asked me to ask you. I assumed it’d be easier if you were inebriated, but I misjudged how quickly you could metabolize your alcohol.”

Eggsy’s rough face looked at him in slight confusion, before he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and blinked a few times.

“Yeah. Right. Look, it’s nothin’ special. Lots of people are mutants; least that’s what the lady at the center said.”

“Center?” Harry asked sharply. Mutant centers were one of either two types. The first was a small selection of what amounted to youth activity centers, dedicated to promoting mutant peace and safe training and discipline with abilities. They were funded mostly through the government, and were the usual way most young mutants got their information about themselves and their powers. The other type was much worse. They were pseudo-scientific clinics, designed to either actively recruiting mutants into private military outfits or into crime, almost entirely privately funded and very rarely tracked. They were notorious for leading otherwise innocent young men and women into lives that were far more dangerous than they could have anticipated, and were often told they were little better than slaves.

“Yeah, one of the good ones. Went there before I tried the Marines. I mean, it wasn’t great, it was near the council flats so it couldn’t be much. But they had some nice people there workin’ with kids.”

“Ah. Good. For a moment there you had me worried you’d gone to one of the nastier ones.”

“Nah. I know my record reads like I probably did, but that was all me. Or my stepdad and his goons makin’ me do stuff. Nothing sinister like the bad centers.”

“So what is it you can do?”

Before Eggsy had the chance to open his mouth and answer, Harry’s glasses chimed, alerting him to an incoming call from Merlin.

“Sorry, be right back.” Harry stood and took the call in his office. Merlin was ordering Harry and Eggsy back in for the dog test, though Eggsy wouldn’t be apprised of that until it was happening. Harry sighed, and rang off when Merlin was finished. He checked the time and saw that if they left quickly, they could make it to the tailor shop in time to get a fitting in for Eggsy’s first Kingsman suit. Harry was quite convinced Eggsy would make a fine Lancelot, but didn’t trust that his fashion sense would extend to selecting his own suit. The conversation downstairs long forgotten, Harry set about getting himself and Eggsy to the shop posthaste.

***

Then Harry had to go and die before Eggsy could tell him what he could do. He died before Eggsy could tell him how much Harry meant to him. _He died before Eggsy could tell him he loved him, hopelessly and completely._

So Eggsy decided to get revenge the best way he knew how: violently.

***

Eggsy opted not to bum the princess. Though he was tempted, the emotions from the previous two days hit him rather hard as Tilde was flipping her dress over her nude bottom, and all Eggsy could do was fall to his knees and cry. Tilde was a champ about it, taking the young man into her arms and letting him sob against her shoulder until there were no more tears to be had. He missed Harry too much, he ached everywhere, and he knew they had to let out all the other people stuffed into the posh little jail cells Valentine had developed. So he gathered himself up, kissed the princess on her cheek, and headed back to the plane. Eggsy entered the cabin, Merlin’s sly glance morphing into a look of concern as he saw how devastated Eggsy looked.

“You alright, lad?”

“No.”

“I take it the princess’ company left something to be desired.”

“Didn’t do nothin’ but weep and weep. She and a whole bunch of other folks is still in the cells; we gotta get some reinforcements to get them out.” Eggsy stared out the window.

Merlin nodded at him and stood.

“Come on lad, let’s get you patched up. Your suit looks like you took a beating.”

“Nah, I’m good.”

“Eggsy I can clearly see where you’ve been bleeding. Dinnae make me sedate you.”

“Nah, Merlin. I mean it. I’m good." Eggsy looked up at Merlin and twitched his eye a bit. The older man’s jaw dropped as he watched the split and swollen lip the boy was sporting healed over and shrank back to its usual size.

“I heal,” Eggsy said simply. He leaned forward and opened the button of his jacket, showing the gash across the white shirt where Gazelle had actually sliced him open badly, severing more than the navy and red tie he wore.

“Harry kept askin’ but I never got ‘round to tellin’ him about my power. That one would have done me without it,” Eggsy told him, tapping the new and unblemished skin underneath the sliced and bloody shirt.

“Christ lad. Why did you not say anything earlier?”

“Ain’t found anythin’ that can kill me yet. And believe me bruv, I’ve tried. Bullet to the head, poison, none of it. I metabolize most things too fast, though I spend about a half hour or so sick as a fuckin’ dog workin’ it out of my system. Booze gets me drunk for about an hour or so, poison is a half hour. It’s why I eat so fuckin’ much at chow.”

Merlin nodded in commiseration and sighed.

“Pity you didn’t shoot the dog, then. We could use an agent who can’t die.”

“Fuck off, Merlin. When you can’t fuckin’ die, you tend to see life as somethin’ fuckin’ precious. I ain’t gonna shoot a dog that hasn’t done a fuckin’ thing to me, no matter who told me too.”

“Settle down, lad, I’m kidding. I’m fairly certain that blowing up the heads of half the world’s leaders and aristocracy counts more so than blanks and a puppy.”

“I’m fuckin’ tired, Merlin. Healin’ takes a lot outta me, yeah? Let’s go get Rox and get the fuck outta here.” Eggsy swallowed hard.

“Maybe go get Harry. Bring him home properly.”

“I’ve already dispatched a team to get him back. We’ll have him home for the service, lad.”

Eggsy nodded but stayed silent. He slept on the plane ride back to Roxy’s location, and besides a long and solid hug, they remained quiet on their way back to the UK.

***

Several days passed in which Merlin was named the acting head of Kingsman. No knights were found to be traitorous besides Arthur, but several technical and support staff had accepted the former king’s bribes and had joined up with Valentine. They were dealt with by Merlin personally, who took an unholy glee in reminding them of the subsection in their contracts which stated explicitly that the punishment for treason to the agency was a firing squad.

They assembled the Kingsmen and each of the knights declared that Eggsy should be given a knight’s position, given his bravery and sacrifice during the events of V-Day. Eggsy sat there in his now-cleaned suit and thanked them quietly, simply listening to the rest of the meeting rather than joining in actively. Before they left, however, Merlin had one last piece of business he wanted to conduct, so Eggsy sat up and gave the Scottish man his attention.

 

“I’m not meant to be Arthur. You all know that; I know that. I’d kill every last one of you bastards inside of a week. So I need you all to propose someone from within the organization who can take the job from me. If no one volunteers, that is.” Merlin looked around the table where each of the knights sat in person, none volunteering for a job that would take them from the field.

Merlin sighed.

“Fine. I’ll expect your nominations on my desk by end of business tomorrow. Eggsy, you’ll need to come to my office after this so we can determine an appropriate codename for you.”

“I rather think he’d make a fetching Guinevere. Particularly given that I’m nominating myself for the position of Arthur.”

Eggsy’s head snapped to the door, just as everyone else’s did. There stood Harry Hart, looking as hale and healthy as ever, leaning ever so jauntily on his Rainmaker. No hair was out of place and no scar or injury seemed to be found upon him. Harry’s eyes sought out Eggsy’s and the older man winked one whiskey-colored eye at him cheekily from behind his glasses frame. Eggsy stood and crossed the room quickly, his hand outstretched. He touched Harry’s temple where the bullet wound should have been, but found no sign of it at all.

“You didn’t think you were the first mutant who couldn’t die to be employed by Kingsman, did you darling? Come now. It's hardly the first time this has happened. How else do you think I out-drank you?”

Eggsy’s rather over enthusiastic tackle-kiss combination answered Harry just fine.

 


	2. Gifts

In the months that followed Harry’s “miraculous resurrection” he and Eggsy had become nearly inseparable. Merlin constantly used this against them, sending them as a team on missions that were otherwise deemed too lethal for any single agent to complete on his or her own. Between them, Harry and Eggsy “died” a further half dozen times, and each time they were able to use the spontaneous regeneration of their bodies as shock value giving the other agent precious time to complete the missions. As a result, they had become something of a legend among the Kingsman branches worldwide.

While Arthur didn’t usually go into the field, the current incarnation refused to be left out, preferring to delegate the work to assistants and other senior department heads in exchange for extra vacation days or higher pay. So far it had worked well for everyone. Well, everyone except Eggsy.

While they had been gallivanting across the globe, breaking up sex trafficking rings and human rights violators left and right, they hadn’t had much time to just be with each other. It was driving Eggsy mad; the knowledge of what Harry looked like under his suit, of what kind of monster he was in bed so close, and yet so far. They’d been unable to do more than messy handjobs and less-than-five-minute quickies because of the months-long back-to-back missions, a far cry from the hours-long lovemaking Eggsy had gotten from Harry the first week or two he was back. And either Harry wasn’t bothered by it, or he had the patience of a saint, because the older man hadn’t complained once about the lack of intimacy.

This deficit led Eggsy directly to Merlin.

“Merlin. Bruv. Best mate a guy could ask for.”

“Whatever it is, no.”

“I haven’t even asked you yet!" whines Eggsy, perching against Merlin’s paper- and gadget-covered desk.

“Aye. Not my problem.”

“It’s about Harry.” Eggsy said with a sing-song voice. Merlin sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Fine. What is it?”

“I need you to take us off rotation for about a week. Maybe two.”

“Why?”

“Because I think it’s detrimental to Arthur’s mental health to be so active in the field without any downtime.” Eggsy’s perfectly posh and practiced answer rolled smoothly from his tongue.

“Ha. I’ve seen the man go years without a break that wasn’t a medically induced coma. Try again.”

“Because it sets a poor example to younger agents and the recruits?”

Merlin’s stony face and narrowed eyes were all Eggsy got in reply to that one. He huffed, and crossed his arms across his chest.

“Fine. We ain’t had enough alone time lately and it’s drivin’ me fuckin’ barmy. Plus, it’s our first anniversary in a month and I want to get him somethin’ nice, and some time alone for a little trip seems perfect.”

“There it is.”

Eggsy looked petulantly at Merlin and popped his lower lip out in a pleading pout.

“Please? Pretty please?”

“Fine. But!” Merlin held up a hand to stop Eggsy’s crowing.

“But?”

“But, you will do me a favor first. I have a list of items I need procured by the end of the business week, split into three categories from easiest to find to most difficult and or expensive. If you are able to source them all in pristine order and here by 5 pm Friday, I will give you and Harry one week off. If you are able to get all the items on lists one _and_ two, I’ll give you two weeks. _If you can get every single item on all three lists_ , I will personally pay for the two of you to go have a sex vacation somewhere private and warm. Do we have a deal?”

“Uh, do I get to see the list first?”

“No.”

“Fine. I’ll do it. But I can’t take a fuckin’ mission if I’m to be scouring London or wherever for your gadgets. Gimme the list.”

Merlin opened a drawer in his desk that required an entire palm print to unlock, and withdrew a cream colored piece of paper. It was the same kind of heavy stationary Eggsy had seen Harry use, thick and smooth.

“Be mindful of the time limit, lad. 5 pm. Friday. No exceptions.”

Eggsy read through the list and looked up at Merlin.

“You’re takin’ the fuckin’ piss.”

“I’m afraid not.”

Eggsy just pursed his lips and shoved the list into his breast pocket.

***

“Harry? What the fuck is a long-line bra and where the fuck do I find one?”

Eggsy barged into Harry’s office, interrupting the meeting that was currently taking place. The Prime Minister of the UK looked a bit ruffled at Eggsy’s outburst, though Harry seemed to look thoughtful.

“For a man or a woman?”

“Uh, woman if the size indicated on Merlin’s list is anything to go by. ‘Sup, bruv,” Eggsy nodded sharply at the PM, who’s mouth was hanging slightly open.

“Try La Perla on Old Bond. There’s another one around the corner on Burlington if the first store needs to send out for a specific item, though it’s primarily menswear. Their current lookbook is rather intriguing this season,” Harry finished, sipping his tea and giving Eggsy a genial look, though the smirk at the corner of his mouth was anything but innocent.

“Right. Uh, I’m gonna be shoppin’ for the next five hundred years if this list is anything to go by. Mind if I text you if I run into this kind of problem again?”

“Not at all, darling. But why exactly are you doing Aodhán’s shopping for him?”

“Owe him a favor. I’d best be off. Bet you a tenner these posh twat shops close before tea.”

“Only if you show up in something rather more council than Kingsman, my dear. Wear the suit and they’ll stay open. Take the black card. Might as well use Merlin’s holiday bonus for his personal shopping. Roxanne’s too, if my suspicions are correct.”

Eggsy shot Harry a devilish smirk.

“Fuck yeah you are. I know Rox’s measurements easy. This is her. Or some weird sex-doll version of her that Merlin built in the basement he thinks we don’t know about. Later Harry. Guv.” Eggsy nodded to the PM, who was slowly going purple at the conversation. The man waved weakly at Eggsy, who sauntered out, winged shoes and bespoke tracksuit swishing down the hallway.

Eggsy changed downstairs in the fitting rooms of the shop, and headed outside. Kingsman agents traditionally used the telephone to call for a car, but Eggsy and Roxy had badgered Merlin into building a Kingsman-only Uber app for their smart phones. Eggsy tapped it, ordered a ride, and browsed the shop while waiting. He shot Dagonet a cheeky wink and stopped to admire the ties and matching pocket squares. An older man and a lad who couldn’t be more than 16 were in the shop, and the youngster had just finished a suit fitting and they had come into the main room.

The father, Eggsy assumed, was talking Dagonet’s ear off about the cuts and cloth for the boy’s suit, and Eggsy could plainly see that the young man was embarrassed beyond all measure about his father’s braying. What the older man was suggesting was quite unflattering, and though Dagonet’s job was to make sure that clients got what they wanted, it was still the client’s choice.

Eggsy caught the young man’s eye and jerked his head to the leather chairs. The lad slid into one, his school uniform a bit worse for wear, and sighed. Eggsy perched on the arm of another and looked at the boy.

“First suit?”

“What? Oh, yes. Well, first fitted suit. I’ve had others before, but they were just regular store bought things. Don’t even know why I’m getting this one; by the time I’ll need it I’ll have shot up another inch and the measurements will be wrong. Plus, you know, father’s getting his preferred style and cut and is cheating out on the fabrics. He’s over there talking the tailor into using some kind of polyester wool blend.”

 

The boy didn’t seem shocked by Eggsy’s rough accent, though his eyes did take in the suit and coiffed hair in contrast.

“Ouch. What’s the event?”

“Sister’s wedding. She wants black tie, but father’s not paying for me to get a tux. He said Juliette could finance the whole thing if she insisted on a black tie affair.” The boy rolled his eyes.

“Sounds like a real piece of work. No offense,” Eggsy said, though he knew exactly what kind of jerk the father might be if he was dictating his son’s clothing choices.

“It just… it’s just not what I want to wear to this thing. Juliette said I could come in whatever I wanted, but father nearly exploded when she told him that.

Eggsy furrowed his brow and asked, “What exactly were you wanting to wear then, bruv?”

The boy opened his mouth and turned beet red.

“Something a bit more… feminine,” the boy barely whispered, so quiet that Eggsy had to strain to hear it.

“Ah. Gotcha. Y’know, my friend Rox gets her suits made here. I could probably talk to Dagonet about getting him to use one of her patterns instead of the regular menswear ones. He and I are pretty good mates.”

“You- you’d do that? Why? We only met five minutes ago.” The lad’s voice was full of hope and suspicion.

“Listen to me accent, mate. You and I both ain’t cut out for the traditional side of this, yeah? Sure, I can pretend I belong, just as you can,” Eggsy said, the last sentence perfectly spoken. “But it gets fuckin’ old. Ain’t no problem for me to talk to the man.”

“Yes but my father’s paying for it. He’ll have final say.”

“Tell you what. I get Dagonet to do it, and I’ll pay for it. We’ll call it a gift.”

“I… I can’t even believe you. This is amazing. Seriously amazing.” The boy’s face lit up, and Eggsy returned his smile. He reached over to the small side table and poured himself a small drink from the decanter. Eggsy sipped the bourbon, wincing at the burn. He preferred straight scotch, if he was drinking posh, Jack and Coke if he was drinking with his mates, and the fruitiest cider he could get his hands on if he were drinking for himself.

“Cheers then.”

Eggsy and the boy spoke for a bit longer until the lad’s father came over. Eggsy gave him the once-over, nothing the poor cut and straining seams under the man’s girth. Clearly he didn’t care for his own tailoring, let alone his son’s. Eggsy nodded at the man and raised the small glass to the man, but had it quickly jilted out of his hand when the man yanked his son up to leave. The tumbler broke against the floor, sending shards of glass everywhere.

“Watch where you’re going boy!” The man cried out to Eggsy, who simply gave him an amusedly annoyed look and knelt to pick up the glass pieces. He winced a bit as he cut himself on the glass, and jammed the injured thumb into his mouth on reflex.

Eggsy worried the cut with his tongue and pulled his thumb out to look and see if there were any glass splinters in the wound. Finding none, he focused on it and healed it over almost instantaneously, the small bead of blood that had welled up sinking back into the wound as if it had never happened. The boy he’d been speaking with gasped in awe, but the boy’s father snarled.

“You fucking freak! You stay away from my son, you hear me! We don’t tolerate your kind in our presence!”

Dagonet, who had arrived with a foxtail and dust pan, took in the scene and the man’s outburst before simply saying, “I’m sorry, but we do not tolerate bigotry in the store. I’m afraid, sir, that I will have to ask you to leave. We will not be requiring your custom after all. Have a pleasant afternoon.”

Eggsy gave Dagonet a wink and clicked his tongue in thanks, and took the dustpan and brush from the elderly man. The boy shot Eggsy a look of woeful apology as he was dragged out by his sputtering, red-faced father.

“My apologies, Guinevere. I wasn’t aware you were gifted,” said Dagonet politely.

“Yep. I heal. So pretty bloody perfect for Kingsman, eh?”

“Quite so, sir. I believe young Arthur is gifted similarly?”

“Oh yeah, he and I have pretty much been takin’ all the bad jobs since we can get ‘em done without as much fear.” Eggsy’s phone chirped, alerting him to the presence of his requested car.

“Well, I don’t believe such a gift constitutes any kind of danger to the shop or its back-room activities, so I won’t feel obliged to bar you entry anymore.” Dagonet’s voice was perfectly calm, but his eyes were twinkling with mirth.

“Good to know, mate. Wouldn’t want to go up against you in a dark alley, that’s for sure. Might actually get the job done with those shears of yours.” Eggsy finished sweeping up the floor and binned the broken glass. He turned back to Dagonet.

“Do me a favor, yeah? You think you can make somethin’ a little bit more… Roxy-like for the kid? Bit more feminine, yeah?”

“Absolutely, but I refuse to produce anything for that odious man.”

“Nah, I’ll pay for it. I assume you got the address or contact info, yeah? Pass it along to me when the suit’s done and I’ll see it gets to him. Take it out of my pay, alright?”

“Of course, Guinevere. Anything else to add to your tab?”

“A set of those seafoam green ones?” Eggsy asked sheepishly, nodding to the stand of ties and pocket squares he’d been eyeing initially.

“Very good. I’ll have them sent up after work.”

“You’re the guv, Dagonet.” Eggsy’s phone chirped again, and he left the shop smiling.

***

At 4:49 pm Friday afternoon, Eggsy barreled into Merlin’s office, laden with boxes and bags.

“This is only like half of it, mate. I’ll be right back down, but please tell me I’m in before 5!”

“Aye, you are. I willnae hold it against you if it takes a bit longer to get the rest in. How much of the list did you get?”

Eggsy smirked and slapped the crumpled paper onto Merlin’s desk. It had every single item save for one crossed out in ballpoint pen.

“Couldn’t get that item exactly. Apparently they don’t make it no more. But, I got a guy who can teleport in Chinatown, the _real_ one, not the tourist shite, who’s gettin’ one brought in from Shanghai Sunday when he goes back for Sunday dinner with his mum. Apparently they still got some boxed up in the factories there and they sell ‘em on the black market. So Roxy can have her “fuck-me” lipstick and I’ve got another box of it for you so you can get one of your minions to mix it up for her missions and the like.”

Eggsy headed back up, and within 15 minutes, had returned with the rest of Merlin’s list.

“You owe me and Harry at least two weeks at a glorious sex resort, _and_ at least one week off every other mission or I tell Rox that _I_ was the one who get her “Hopscotch” MAC lipstick, and the rest of these lovely pressies, not you. Deal?”

Merlin stayed silent for a full minute, before sighing and slouching in his chair.

“Deal.”

***

Harry, though completely flabbergasted by Eggsy’s surprise vacation, was rather thrilled with the whole affair, and didn’t complain once about sand in sensitive places when Eggsy decided to get adventurous on their private beachfront.

All in all, Eggsy figured it was a good first-anniversary present, even if he did have to buy up everything for Merlin’s sex-life to get it.


	3. Song

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaaaand it only took 3 days for this to turn into pure crackfic. It was already like 68% crack, now it's 100% grade A shit.

“Merlin, I’m fucked. They’re got a null and I’ve got nowhere to go.”

“What do you mean, ‘a null?’”

“Another mutant, one who negates powers. Ain’t comin’ back from the dead if they clock me ‘round him.”

“Shit.”

***

Eggy had been sent on solo missions before Harry had returned, but this was a the first time they asked him to go alone since. In the almost two years it had been since Harry returned and was named Arthur, they’d gone on every mission as a pair. But With Harry needed at home for some budgetary fiasco, Eggsy was asked to take care of this one himself.

“I’ll be an easy in-and-out. Dinnae even expect you to have to get injured to finish it,” Merlin had said, handing the young Guinevere his briefing packet.

“Yeah, alright. Just tell me where to go and what to shoot.”

“Not quite like that, Guinevere. This is a purely reconnaissance mission. There’s a mutant-rights summit in Geneva, and given the line-up of speakers and various dignitaries, we’ve been asked to step in and take a look at their security before the event happens. Of course, you’ll be there for the duration, but not as a bodyguard. Mostly just… last resort. We dinnae anticipate it going badly, given the sheer amount of security in on the thing, but you cannae be too careful. Two members of the Royal Family will be there, as well as several other monarchs and presidents of various UN nations. In fact, you being a mutant gets you in a few places others might not get to go, given the genetic scanners they’ve been talking about using. See if you cannae swipe one for me.”

“Sounds good, guv. What happens if I find a problem?”

“Your briefing packet has a complete rundown of who to report to should find any issues, however if something is of a timely and sensitive nature, use your best judgement.”

“Right then. When do I leave?”

“Now.”

“Fuck. Yeah, just let me grab my kit, yeah?”

“Wheels up in 15, lad. I’d hurry if I were you.”

Eggsy dashed through the HQ sublevels, skidding around corners to make it to Harry’s office. He burst in through the door and approached the man who was in the middle of some live conference with fairly important-looking people Eggsy cared nothing for.

“Got to go love. Give us a kiss?” Eggsy’s cheeks were pink from running, and they made his request all the more cute to Harry.

The older man obliged, giving him a chaste kiss on the lips before pointing at the still-open door.

“Out, Guinevere. You’ve got places to be.”

Eggsy left much more slowly than he entered, hands shoved in the pockets of his trousers and whistling a tune that made Harry smile every time he heard it.

***

The first part of the mission was simple; Eggsy managed to get access to nearly everywhere that the summit was to take place, and he was personally excited to see the line-up of speakers and delegates that had confirmed their appearances. Word among the security services was even more intriguing: apparently there was reliable chatter that Oxford’s own prodigal geneticist Dr. Xavier would be speaking, despite his generally reclusive nature. Whether he’d actually show was a mystery, but Eggsy was excited to think that the man who had literally written the book on his kind might be in the same building as him. Of course, he was equally excited about meeting the man’s terrifyingly competent associate, the metal-bender, but that wasn’t something he generally shared. Enjoying the company of a reformed villain didn’t usually go over well in the espionage business.

However, Eggsy was most nervous about meeting another long-time compatriot of the world’s most powerful telepath. It had been a shock to Eggsy to find out that Harry had a nearly identical healing ability to his own, but when they discussed it more in depth, Eggsy discovered that the number of people like them was not a large one. Harry’s concern was that he was still aging, albeit more slowly than others his age, but Eggsy was too young to really tell. So, with that in mind, they started seeking out other healing mutants. One, they discovered, had been alive for at least two centuries, and if he were to accompany the good doctor, Eggsy would have the chance to ask him about their shared ability and whether Harry’s aging would stop at all. It reminded Eggsy of a Greek myth he’d heard as a boy, about a goddess who asked for immortality for her mortal lover but forgot to ask for eternal youth as well. She ended up carrying the man in a hand basket after he aged and withered into a cricket. Eggsy wanted to avoid having to do that, but wasn’t sure how to broach the subject further with Harry.

So it was with these thoughts rattling around his head, that Eggsy went into the first day of the convened summit.

Things did not go well.

Half of the delegates and dignitaries were from nations that still had pretty terrible human rights violations, let alone mutant rights violations. Another third had fairly solid records of segregationist laws regarding mutants that had only been repealed or changed in the last decade or so thanks to campaigning and social media. It was a clusterfuck of verbal sparring from the get-go. Of course, the other security guards seemed to think this was par for the course, so Eggsy didn’t dwell on it.

Then the protesters showed up. At first, it was just a small group of radical types, picketing outside the convention center. Security for the building had them well in hand. Unfortunately, the suggested appearance of Dr. Xavier had brought out the crazies. After the run-of-the-mill protesters had been dealt with, aggressive, violent ones took their place. It seemed like a flood of people rushing the buildings. The access gates and the small security force weren’t in any way capable with dealing what was quickly becoming a riot. Internal security and the private or governmental securities were notified quickly and the convention got the order to evacuate. Eggsy, being essentially an independent contractor, shifted into gear to see what he could do to mitigate the damage or help in other ways. Then the gunfire broke out.

It became evident very rapidly that these protesters weren’t here for some kind of peaceful protest. They were heavily armed, and when Eggsy managed to get a good look at a group of them from a position in the catwalks above the main stage, they moved with an almost tactical precision. Eggsy clicked on his radio feed back to HQ and apprised Merlin of the situation.

“Fuckin’ mercs, Merlin. These ain’t protesters. These are trained.”

“Aye, that’s what it looks like. Let me run some scans from your recordings and I’ll see what I can discover. In the meantime, get any civilians out of there and deal with it as best you can. You’re not bloody Die Hard, so don’t try to.”

“Fuckin’ hell, Merlin, his name is John McClane, not ‘Die Hard.’ That’s the movie’s name!”

“Whatever it is, watch your back.”

“Roger that, bruv.”

Eggsy clicked the radio feed off and went to work. He worked his way down, trying to coordinate with the scattered security forces of several organizations. Unfortunately, since most were either private outfits or government, there was little inter-agency discussion and even less cooperation. Dodging a bullet from the US liaison’s bodyguard pretty much cemented the fact that Eggsy was likely on his own for this. It did gratify him to see that the other agencies were at least shooting the bad guys, too. He spotted several bodies of the mercenaries lying about, and more than a few bore signs of a mutant offense, rather than a standard weaponry attack.

Eggsy slunk through the hallways, searching for civilians, when the convention center’s PA system fired off.

“We have taken control of the building. Everyone get back in the main conference hall, or we will find you one by one and shoot you, human and mutant alike. And just to prove we mean business, we’ve got two of your leaders here at gunpoint, and neither of them are able to do a damn thing about it. Talk.”

There was the sound of scuffling and a groan that was clearly the exhalation of someone getting a boot in the back. An elderly voice, strong despite the situation, came on.

“This is Dr. Xavier. Please, do nothing to put yourselves into further jeopardy. The authorities are  on their wa-“

“Shut your fucking mouth, old man, or I will shut it for you! Everyone, here. Now!”

The system clicked off.

Eggsy sighed. He checked his weapons and found he had only half of a single clip for his handgun, his shoe blade, and his signet ring. He’d not thought to bring the Rainmaker to the convention given the weather called for clear sky and it would make him stand out. He also had the watch, but a tranquilizer and an amnesia dart weren’t exactly powerful enough to stop a mercenary group. He snuck to the conference room again, stripping bodies of guns, ammo, anything that looked remotely useful. He didn’t find much, given the no-weapons policy of the event. The merc bodies had been cleaned already; either their compatriots had done a sweep and stripped them of weapons, or some other civilian had. Eggsy wasn’t sure which, and at this point he didn’t care.

He made his way back into the conference room, and climbed up to the catwalk again. The crowd below was small, perhaps 30 people in all, besides from the dozen or so heavily armed mercenaries. Eggsy could see Dr. Xavier and his partner seated on the ground, the telepath held tightly in the arms of the other. His wheelchair had a bent wheel, rendering it useless. Eggsy stopped at that sight. Surely the metal-bender could simply right the wheel or yank the guns from the hands of the baddies. Then he felt it. A prickling sensation in his arm, just above the wrist. He slowly looked, and saw a bruise darken. He’d been passively healing the superficial injuries he’d received so far, but this was reversing somehow. He felt a few others do the same and it became clear to him in an instant.

They had a null. A mutant whose sole capability was to nullify other mutant powers. Incredibly rare, they often entered into the law enforcement or military fields, and usually not by choice. This was as devastating a blow to the mutants in the conference hall as to anybody. He reached up and clicked on the radio again, but the slight movement jostled the catwalk. Eggsy winced as he heard the shifting of half a dozen men aim their guns up at him.

“Get down here! Now! No funny business or we will shoot you dead.” The mercenary who had taken the PA system over spoke to him. There was no readily identifiable accent to the man’s voice, but it sounded vaguely slavic. The eastern bloc countries had had the most difficult time integrating laws regarding the welfare of mutants and humans alike, so it made sense, ideologically, to hire a group from those areas to attack a mutant rights conference. Eggsy made a show of raising his hands in surrender, using one to push his glasses up his nose and nervously tuck his hair back behind his ear. He tapped the Morse code signal all agents used to require immediate handler support, and as he crawled across the catwalk he spoke to merlin softly.

“Merlin, I’m fucked. They’re got a null and I’ve got nowhere to go.”

“What do you mean, ‘a null?’”

“Another mutant, one who negates powers. Ain’t comin’ back from the dead if they clock me ‘round him.”

“Shit.”

Eggsy reached the ladder that led down to the backstage area and began descending it slowly.

“Guinevere, we’ve got an… agent of sorts in the area. Just hang on long enough for him to show up.”

“How the fuck will I know it’s him?”

“Oh, you’ll know. He’ll give you a signal that only you’d know. In the meantime, try to nullify the null, if you catch my meaning.”

Eggsy nodded slightly, knowing the motion would be acknowledgement enough to Merlin. He let himself be dragged to the group, and was shoved among the others after being stripped of all but his concealed show blade and his ring. He stumbled a bit, but righted himself to face the leader head on where Merlin’s glasses could get a good look.

“Shite. Nasty bit of work out of Macedonia. Anti-mutant, extreme right-wing. Lovely group, all in all,” said Merlin, though Eggsy couldn’t reply.

Eggsy and the others were ordered to sit, and the mercenaries only had a few minutes before one of their own came barreling in to announce the arrival of the Swiss police outside. The leader only smiled a toothy grin in response. The standoff dragged on for nearly 45 minutes before the man who had told them of the police arriving came back in more sedately.

“They are sending in a negotiator,” he said in Turkish, a language Eggsy was familiar with.

“Good. Let them send us a witness to justice.” The leader replied in English. The crowd seemed to be greatly affected by that. Several women were in tears, a few men too. The older people seemed to be handling it far better than the younger, though Eggsy could see Dr. Xavier speaking low to the man who held him, as if seeking comfort. Eggsy bowed his head and thought of Harry. He missed the man dearly, but this was the first time he felt a real frisson of fear about leaving the man or dying before he could come home. It had never occurred to him to be afraid of death, and it was a terrifying realization.

However, Eggsy was unable to dwell on it forever. He became acutely aware of a whistled song piercing the air. He looked up and saw the mercenaries seemed confused. The whistling gave way to humming, and before he knew it, Eggsy was mouthing the words along with the tune, his mind recalling with perfect clarity the memory of telling Harry it was his favorite song from ‘My Fair Lady.’

_‘…I only know if he began to dance with me, I could have danced, danced, danced all night!’_

“Hey pals. Some weirdo with an accent that makes me want to eat sheep called. You guys order lunch yet? I could really go for some chili.”

Things got messy after that.

***

_Really messy._

***

**Man, I could really go for some chili, messy. Mmmm chili.**

***

“And that’s how I met a nice man named Wade who saved our lives and then got some fuckin’ chili afterwards.”

“Eggsy, that’s not a mission report. That’s the plot of a comic book.” Harry’s stern tone held no subtle amount of amusement.

“Look, you want fuckin’ proof, check my glasses feed. Merlin called him in.”

“How would Merlin even begin to know someone like that? I know with the existence of mutants, there are any number of wildly fantastic and thrilling stories that can be thought up, but a delusional assassin with katana blades and a fondness for talking to himself? Honestly. that’s a bit far-fetched even for you. Besides, if this ‘man’ could do half the things you say he could, why wasn’t he affected by the null the same way you were?”

“He got turned into one of us, not born with it. Guess that makes a difference to the bloke’s powers of canceling out ours.”

“I don’t even know where to begin, darling. I surely don’t.”

Eggsy rifled through his pockets and removed his smart phone. He fiddled with it for a moment before tossing it to Harry. He just nodded, a smug look on his youthful face.

Harry looked at the phone, back up at Eggsy, back to the phone, and sighed.

“Fine. But you’re never to mention this to anyone, ever. Not even Merlin. Not even me, however long I may know you.” Harry handed back the phone with a sigh. Eggsy smiled at the older man and glanced down at the phone, which had a new lock screen.

No longer was it Harry’s smiling face. Instead it was a candid selfie of Eggsy and a masked man in red, the bottom half pushed up to reveal his mouth, shoveling chili into their mouths and smiling for the camera.

Eggsy unlocked his phone and shot off a new text in the open group chat he’d been added to earlier.

**Eggsy:** _he dont believe your real, mate_

The reply was almost instantaneous.

**Wade:** _neither is santa but you still let that fat old fuck into your naughty bedroom. im just as red and i bring way better presents._

A third text was quickly received.

**Aodhán:** _Shut up, both of you. Don’t tell Harry about Wade anymore, Eggsy. He never believes me when I talk about him, either. Convinced I’ve made it all up. Just KCCO._

 

 **Wade:** _yeah eggy waffles. keep calm and craft something hat starts with o and is on my pinterest._

_*that_

**  
  
**


	4. Undercover

As missions went, this wasn’t the worst they’d been sent on. That dubious honor went to Budapest, which no one spoke of any longer. But this was was… disconcerting, to say the least. Whereas most missions allowed Harry and Eggsy to remain together, this one asked them to be split up, each taking a different task within the scope of the mission. It wasn’t a particularly long mission, but it coincided with Harry’s birthday, and subsequently the plans Eggsy had to postpone.

But, Eggsy was a professional, and thus took it like a champ and went on the mission. He brought Harry’s birthday present with him just in case they managed to finish early, or meet up clandestinely, but it looked less and less likely. His portion of the mission was to be “the face,” the young, wealthy silly boy who was more interested in sleeping around than doing business. Harry was to play the role of an unrelated, unknown investor. They’d only crossed each other in passing once, and went with the “extreme dislike” option when introduced. They’d shaken hands politely, but Eggsy had made a slight show of wiping his hand on his handkerchief, while Harry was overheard speaking of “the silly, pretty boy” to his colleagues. It wasn’t something they particularly enjoyed, but it was work.

Or at least it was.

Eggsy was used to being the object of attention on missions that required any interaction with the female sex. Sometimes the males as well. But somehow it had gotten lost in translation that the 30-something mark they were meant to be working over at the fancy dinner and dance happened to prefer older men over “young pups, so eager to serve and make a mess on your shoes,” as she’d put it earlier in the night. This left Eggsy hanging, because he couldn’t stop his side of the mission. So Harry, apprised of the situation by Merlin, stepped in.

Eggsy was fine for the first hour of the gala they were both attending. He sipped his watered down drink, flirted with crime bosses’ socialite daughters, and generally mingled, keeping his eye on the older woman. Harry had approached her halfway through the first hour and hadn’t left her side. The woman had draped her hand across the small of Harry’s back, and the little grin he always wore when Eggsy was doing something foolishly endearing graced his lips. When Eggsy spotted it, he froze.

_That was his smile._

Eggsy got ahold of himself, albeit shakily, and swept up his current chatty birdbrained partner and danced.

As the night wore on, he kept his eye on Harry and the mark, watched her kiss Harry on the cheek and leave a smudge of her too-dark lipstick on his stupid, perfect skin. Eggsy longed to snatch the poorly-done weave from her hair, wrestle her to the ground, and shoe her exactly who Harry belonged to. Luckily for her, Merlin’s voice in his ear every so often kept him grounded enough to focus on the mission.

“Easy lad. I’ve seen that particular glare before from other agents. Percival and the previous Lancelot were quite terrible about it. Harry’s a professional; you are too.”

“I know,” Eggsy sighed quietly. “Don’t mean I have to like it.”

“Aye, I know that feeling, Guinevere.”

“How is Lancelot, by the way? Thought she rolled her ankle a couple days ago.”

“Doing fine. She’s got two weeks off and then two more of physic to regain flexibility. Nasty ligament sprain, but the physiotherapists aren’t concerned.”

“Good stuff. You want me to take her free running a bit? It’s good practice for learning how to avoid that kind of thing.”

“If you like, lad. But no amount of parkour is going to teach her how to do well in five inch heels.”

“Nah, for that you gotta hit up Studio68. It’s in Southwark.”

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“Mate, I’ll text you the details. Arthur just bailed with the contessa or whatever, and I ain’t about to let him out of my sight with that harpy.”

“God damn it Guinevere, this is an undercover op, not a bloody winter dance. You’ll do your job or I’ll have your head.”

Eggsy’s response was to turn off his glasses feed. He casually made his way out the same door Harry and the mark had gone through. It led to a hallway, clumps of people milling about. There was a bank of elevators across the walk and he just caught sight of Harry and the woman inside one before the doors shut. Eggsy moved through the hall and waited until the elevator they had been on stopped. Noting the floor it stopped on on the overhead indicator, he boarded another and pressed the right button.

The indicator that Merlin was trying to reach him through his comms was blinking furiously, the text updates from the man bordering on obscene. Eggsy smirked at his reflection in the shiny steel wall of the elevator and shrugged. He mouthed the words “must be broken” and tapped his glasses and gave a comedic look of contrition.

The incoming message from Merlin after that was six lines long and almost entirely censored.

***

Eggsy snuck about the 37th floor of the hotel the gala was being held in. There was private security everywhere, beefy men and tough-looking women with poorly concealed weaponry. Clearly whomever was on this floor didn’t want to get caught unawares. But, he hadn’t been raised to sneak about for nothing. Eggsy made his way across three balconies, his hands gripping the wrought iron railings rightly as he maneuvered stealthily. James Bond made it look easier, but his days as a gymnast weren’t for naught. Hauling himself up to peer into yet another room, Eggsy was greeted with the sight of Harry tied to a chair, the mark slapping him with an ostentatiously decorated pistol, and several thugs in the room watching. Eggsy brought his face down to touch his shoulder, activating the earpiece once more.

“Got eyes on Arthur, Merlin. He’s currently in a tiny bit of a jam. You seein’ what I’m seein’?”

“Aye. But we’ve got a bit worse to deal with than Harry’s situation.”

‘What do you mean?”

“The gentlemen behind the lady. They’re flagging as CIA. Bloody Yanks must think Harry’s cover is genuine. The woman is probably an operative of theirs.”

“Are you fuckin’ serious? Spy versus spy? Bit ‘Cold War’ yeah?”

“True, but it’s the hand we’ve been dealt. Get Arthur out without blowing your cover or his. I’d rather he not get dragged back to the States and into the black hole of their dubiously named legal system. My advice would be to pose as a rival faction’s assassin and attempt to take out the CIA operatives.”

“Yeah alright. Give me like 15 minutes to get a mask or a balaclava or somethin’.”

“Arthur will be fine for that long, I’m sure.”

Eggsy sighed and began working back across the balconies. His hands were aching from the rough iron, but he pushed down the discomfort and swung himself up and onto the landing outside a room a few doors down. He slipped in the room, the current occupant passed out on the bed with a bottle of cheap champagne and an expensive-looking escort lounging next to him. Eggsy put his finger to his lips and the young lady nodded, not particularly concerned that there was a stranger coming in through the high-rise balcony.

Eggsy slipped into the hallway and looked around. The security goons weren't near this part of the floor, so Eggsy was in the clear. He turned around and looked back at the escort.

“Oi. Love. You got a scarf or a mask on you?” he whispered loud enough for her to hear.

“Just there,” she said, pointing a long finger at the end of the bed. Sure enough, there was a set of sheer scarves tied to the end, as if they’d been used to tie up someone.

“Thanks, love. If I were you, I’d try the safe for his wallet. Bastard like this who skimps on the quality champagne for a lovely lady like yourself usually skips the service tip, if you catch me. Combination’s easy to crack if you know how it’s done in hotels like these. 1234-#-# or 000 and then 999 if it’s a rotary dial. Cheers.” With a wink, Eggsy took the darkest scarf and left the room.

Eggsy folded the scarf and wrapped it around his head and face, leaving only his eyes uncovered. It wasn’t the best job he’d done, but it covered his features and that’s what mattered.

“You got the cameras, Merlin? Don't want hotel security thinking' I'm up to no good.”

“Aye. And just how do you know how to crack a hotel safe?”

“Trick of the tricking-trade, mate. Half the time they don’t pay you what they owe so you gotta take it some way.”

“Lovely. What a delightful life you’ve led, Guinevere.”

“Yeah well, beats selling drugs to kids.” Eggsy neared the door to the room Harry was in and drew his handgun.

“That it does. Look alive. I’ll unlock the door but you need to move quickly. On my mark. Three. Two. One.”

The small click and the shift of the door lock’s indicator lights from red to green let Eggsy know it had worked. He burst in the room and shot two of the thugs in the shoulder. He took out another’s kneecap, and executed a roll to the last. He leapt upon the man’s back and dropped him in a headlock, choking the man until he passed out. Eggsy looked up into the barrel of the little ornate pistol the woman had.

She opened her mouth to say something, but Eggsy used the unconscious man’s body like a pommel horse and twisted his legs around to knock the woman onto the ground. She fell with a cry, the gun skittering across the room. She and Eggsy rose at the same time, and began to fight, hand to hand.

She was fast, landing several good blows on Eggsy, and he in turn took a delightful amount of glee in punching her in her beautiful face. He repeated this several times. She, in turn, got him across the ribs with a stiletto knife she’d been concealing. It hurt like fire and she’d nicked something major, because Eggsy had trouble catching his breath. She swept the knife back at him, and he caught her hand. Squeezing it hard enough to break bones, he forced her to drop it and onto her knees. He had raised his fist to strike the agent again when she fell forward onto the floor. Harry stood behind her, the 30s-style telephone the hotel offered in his hand.

“Always wanted to knock someone out with a phone. Not as easy as it looks,” he huffed, motioning with the heavy object. “We should probably go before she wakes up.”

“You think?” Eggsy offered scathingly.

“Are you mad at me for something?” Harry looked genuinely confused.

“Nah. I’m fine.” Eggsy crossed his arms over his chest and stared at Harry.

“Right. Of course you are. How silly of me to misconstrue this,” Harry said, waving the hand holding the phone up and down Eggsy’s frame, “as being completely fine.”

“You smiled at her.”

“ _What?_ ”

“I saw you! You smiled at her!”

“Darling, now isn’t really the time. I smile at lots of people, daily.”

“Yeah but not, _my_ smile. The little one you get when I teach JB somethin’ stupid or have Daisy over for Princess Tea Party.”

“Ah. Would you at least let me explain _on the way out of here_?”

“Let’s move, then. You can talk on the way.”

They left the room quickly, heading down the service stairs to the street. Eggsy unwrapped the scarf and let it flutter into a dumpster once they hit the alleyway behind the hotel. Harry grabbed Eggsy’s hand and pulled him into a doorway. He reached up and plucked Eggsy’s glasses from his face, removed his own, and placed his frames on Eggsy’s nose.

“Watch.”

What replayed was an odd dual-screen view. Eggsy could clearly see the American woman, talking and socializing with a group of people. He could even see himself in miniature, at the bar and occasionally turning his face towards Harry. But on the other lens’ screen was a replay of the last time Eggsy had cooked breakfast for the two of them. He’d been in a pair of ratty sweatpants dug up from a box in Harry’s attic, and an apron with JB’s face printed on the front that Roxy had given him for his last birthday. He’d been singing along with the radio, barefoot and bouncing his hip to the beat, unknowing that Harry was recording at the time.

Eggsy stopped the replay with a touch of his hand and looked up at Harry with a questioning look on his face. Wordlessly he gave the older man back his glasses and retrieved his own. They both settled them back on their faces before Harry finally spoke.

“I always watch you when I have to do anything like this. It makes me… easier to be free and flirty, thinking I’m just flirting with you.”

“Oh.” Eggsy felt small.

“It’s rather foolish since we’re almost always together for missions, but even before…” Harry trailed off.

“Really? Before I was a knight and all?”

“Oh yes. I used the footage from before that little fracas in your local extensively when dealing with Valentine and others. To be honest, I was trying to bring up a shot of you to look at before I left the church that day, but I wasn’t exactly focused enough to do so without Valentine noticing my glasses were more than just glasses.”

“You bloody creeper. Pretendin’ you was with me when you go undercover. I love it.”

“Yes well, you’ll have to forgive an old man his odd habits, I suppose.”

“Nah. I like it. ‘Sides, I tend to keep my glasses on when I put them on the nightstand before bed.” Eggsy waggled his eyebrows at Harry, causing the older man to groan.

“ _Eggsy_. Those feeds are monitored, you know.”

“Oh he knows. Trust me. He knows,” said Merlin, breaking up their conversation. “I’ve seen your naked arse more times than I care to count because of that boy. Now if you’re both finished braiding each others’ hair, might we get on with it? You’re undercover agents, not school kids pulling pigtails.”

“If we must. My dear?” Harry said, offering Eggsy his arm.

“We must, my darling. We must,” Eggsy replied, and took Harry’s arm. They left the alley, arm in arm, and happy to be together.


End file.
